


blow me (one last kiss)

by poppyharris



Series: the only one that brings me joy, is my computer boy [8]
Category: Columbine - Fandom
Genre: F/M, aftermath of a shooting (again), bit of sexy time, tfw your bf shoots up a school
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:21:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29243511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppyharris/pseuds/poppyharris
Summary: poppy wakes up on the 20th april to a different world.
Relationships: Dylan Klebold/Original Female Character(s)
Series: the only one that brings me joy, is my computer boy [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2030974
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	blow me (one last kiss)

poppy woke up to the sound of her television, a slow steady beeping, and a rumbling from her stomach. but she was alone in her bed, which was a stark contrast to when she’d gone to sleep. what time was it, anyway? 

she rolled over in bed, the alarm clock’s blank display simply reflecting back her own startled face. she could’ve sworn she set the alarm before going to sleep, it was the 20th, she had rehearsals at 9am. poppy could understand if dylan had slipped out for bowling, but he usually woke her before leaving. 

or did he go home? poppy could’ve believed it was early if the sun wasn’t up, fuckin’ colorado in april. she felt unusually stiff as she clambered out of bed, and stopped again. why was the lamp on? she always turned it off, poppy couldn’t get to sleep with a light still on.

dylan had definitely been here when she went to sleep. they’d had… chicken legs and mashed potatoes. dylan forgot to take the skin off the potatoes, and salted them a bit too much and that’s why they tasted bitter. 

picking up her hairbrush, poppy desperately tried to work through the events of the previous night. dylan had insisted on sleeping round her house that night, and he shot down the idea of just ordering takeout. they’d gone to kmart, in denver, but he’d told her to wait in the car.

she assumed he was buying her a present, but instead got a less than stellar dinner. oh well, poppy wasn’t with him for his brilliant cooking. 

she was suddenly jolted out of her brushing, hearing police sirens screaming along the road. jesus, something major must’ve gone on. poppy sighed, staring at herself in the mirror. something was wrong. she glanced at her phone, but didn’t dare to pick it up to check for messages.

shrugging off the lingering sense of doubt, she tried to continue with her morning routine, but yet another siren started up. it wasn’t the morning, considering the amount of cop cars around. poppy put the brush down, appearances could wait.

hurrying downstairs, she heard the news on the television. still bleary from sleep, she barely listened, but caught snippets like “gunmen” “casualties” “bombing”. what the actual fuck was going on?

poppy didn’t quite register the fact she was still wearing her pyjamas as she threw open the door, fully prepared to go running up to cougar road to find out what on earth was going on.

instead she came face to chest with a tall police officer, his fist raised to knock. others stood behind him, one with a pistol, another with what looked like body armor. the officer cleared his throat, looking down at poppy.

“uh, are you miss poppy stardew?” he asked, scanning her figure, and looking over her shoulder. the words sounded fuzzy, like he was mumbling from a mile away. the edges of her vision blurred and the world suddenly seemed too bright.

“i am, yea-“ she barely had time to answer him, before the pistol wielding officer stepped forward and pointed it at her. the tall officer leaped into action, grasping her shoulders and forcing her to turn around.

“poppy stardew, you are being arrested on suspicion of aiding an offender, possessing a dangerous or illegal weapon with intent to supply to a minor, possession of explosives and also for a federal charge of violation of usc section 2, aiding and abetting a violent offender,” the tall officer explained as another handcuffed her. “you have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and-“

poppy’s vision went white, and she heard no more.

* * *

a steady beeping, a gentle sniffing and quiet drips were the first things poppy heard.

a bag full of brown liquid, a tearful nurse and the tall police officer were the first things poppy saw.

“miss stardew,” the officer began, sitting on the visitors chair. “do you know why you’re here?”

where was she? she wasn’t at home, that was clear enough. she couldn’t quite work out where she was. why was she in the hospital? questions swirled around, like fuzzy fragments of memories. poppy had been arrested, for… aiding an offender? and she couldn’t find dylan, despite the fact he’d been there when she’d fallen asleep. and the news… the terrible news about things poppy was far too scared to ask questions about. “i don’t,” she said simply, faintly aware of how weak she felt.

“you’re in littleton adventist hospital, your father has hired you a lawyer. would you prefer to speak before or after your lawyer arrives?” the officer made poppy’s head spin. why was she in hospital? why did she feel so sick? 

“what’s going on?” she whispered, hoping he’d be able to give her an indication of what was happening. fuck her lawyer, nathan was fucking useless at the best of times. “what time is it?”

the officer looked over at the nurse, who shook her head and suddenly took off, muffled sobs being left in her wake.

“i’m francis soule, colorado fbi. we’ve arrested you in connection with an attack at columbine high school at around eleven am today.”

he wasn’t a officer at all, was poppy’s first thought. she barely heard the rest of the sentence. columbine? why was there an attack there? who attacked there? it was a simple school, really, no reason to oklahoma it.

“we believe you were romantically involved with a mr dylan bennet klebold,” soule continued, poppy’s heart sinking and her gut twisting. no. god no. anything but this. dylan… surely not? okay, he’d made some comments like “oh i’m gonna fuckin kill everyone”, but she’d never taken it overly seriously.

“yeah, i am,” she croaked out, swallowing as best she could. it irked poppy how they referred to dylan in the past tense, though. she wasn’t sure how long it’d been since her arrest, and her throat ached, but she was determined to get out her question.

“where’s dylan?” 

soule looked like he was about to reach out, but seemed to slink back, looking down. “mr klebold was found dead in the columbine library earlier today.”

a cold feeling spread across poppy’s body. pure, unrivalled grief. then, steadily, she became hot. the rage began to build, and build and-

“currently, we believe two of the guns are linked to you. a savage-springfield-“

“67h shotgun, right?” poppy quietly finished his sentence. 

* * *

“whatcha need all these guns for, dyl?” poppy asked, reading through a well-read catalog of guns that were going to be at the high roller gun fare. someone had gone through and circled some, and a shotgun had been circled repeatedly in bright red marker.

“why’re you reading that?” dylan demanded, snatching the catalog out of her hands and standing over her. poppy rolled her eyes, standing up and pushing past him.

“you left it open on your desk, i got bored waiting,” she snapped back, taking the pizza they’d ordered from him and turning back around.

“don’t go through my shit again,” dylan raised his voice, causing poppy to clench her teeth. she longed to shout back, to argue that he looked through her stuff all the fucking time. but she didn’t, and simply took a slice of pizza.

“fine.”

* * *

“i didn’t challenge him, i thought it was just another of his hobbies,” poppy finished, her voice steadily having become weaker. soule nodded, scribbling down everything she said.

“do you feel well enough for a formal interview?” soule asked her, looking directly into her eyes. truthfully, poppy didn’t think she’d ever be ready to speak. to realise all the signs that’d been blaring in her face. 

but she nodded anyway, soule calling the nurse over and explaining that poppy wanted to be discharged. god, she forgot she’d been arrested. what the hell had dylan done? who had dylan hurt?

and why?

why rattled around her head as she was gently lifted out of the bed. she barely noticed the cuffs snapping around her wrists as she considered why. the journey from the hospital to the station felt like a thousand years as poppy considered why.

the bullying had died down a little, she supposed. dylan was too focused on university to worry about messing up his chances by retaliating against his bullies.

but he clearly had retaliated. was it just dylan? maybe-

no, not eric. surely not? eric was a bit of a fucking freak, and was obsessed with nazis and shit, but she couldn’t imagine him roping dylan in to some big elaborate scheme to fuck over columbine.

poppy longed to ask more, to find out what they knew, who had forced dylan down this path. but she didn’t. she never asked questions.

* * *

“dylan, this is gonna sound like a totally weird question, but why do you have a draw full of matches?” poppy asked, looking over her shoulder at him.

dylan didn’t even look up from the screen, his eyes firmly planted on taking down an ogre. “for lighting shit with, duh.”

“yeah but like,” poppy shook her head, closing the draw. “ you know what? i’m not gonna question it.”

* * *

“did dylan ever ask you to hide a gun for him?”

“no.”

“did dylan ever ask you to hide explosive materials for him?”

“no.”

“did dylan ever let you see any explosive materials he’d obtained?”

* * *

“dyl… someone’s gonna see us,” poppy gasped, gripping tightly onto his hair. dylan groaned, shaking his head. his eyes were closed, and, considering the lack of a light, poppy wasn’t sure why she hadn’t closed hers too.

“jus’, never get to have you all to my,” dylan groaned louder, pressing his face into her chest. “all to my damn self.” he grumbled quietly, his fingers digging in tighter to poppy’s waist as she bounced on his dick.

poppy whined in response, resting her head on his shoulder, looking down into the trunk. dylan had removed the polystyrene cover, revealing three or four bottles of what looked like gasoline with rags stuffed in them. she stared in horror at them, not sure if she should push dylan away or pretend she didn’t see anything.

she decided she’d had her head pressed into his neck the entire time, and that she didn’t cum because she was nervous about being caught, not because of anything that was dylan’s fault.

* * *

“the cocktails didn’t work, so we’ll set that one aside. do you recognise,” soule placed various pictures of large white propane tanks, and some charred, black duffle bags. “any of these?”

poppy sniffled slightly, moving one of the pictures closer to her. “no. i don’t think so. that’s dylan’s mom’s bag though, the one she uses when she goes away,” she stared down at the charred remains of the bag, her eyes suddenly brimming with tears. “was anyone hu-”

“soule, klebold’s car exploded,” a jeffco officer suddenly opened the door, causing poppy to suddenly quiet down. “he’d used scrunchies to hold the bottles together for a shaped charge.”

soule turned back around to look at poppy, an eyebrow raised. “maybe we should see if you really didn’t know anything about this.” poppy gaped in horror at him, her breathing suddenly becoming laboured. 

“i… i didn’t, all my hair bands are kept in a musical box, at my house. i…” poppy looked down, her expression suddenly turning pained. “it wasn’t there when i woke up today.” soule quickly reached for his pen, quickly starting to write.

“my mom gave me that music box, it’s always right by my bed. i was worried about how fast i fell asleep last night, i can never get to sleep without my box,” she whispered it all in a rush, her hands shaking violently. soule continued scribbling, nodding at everything she said.

“you’re sure it wasn’t there this morning? what about last night?” soule pressed, poppy’s shaking moving to her shoulders as the tears began to fall.

“i don’t remember so much from last night. i remember coming home, i remember eating with dylan, and then nothing else,” poppy sighed quietly, sniffling. “and then i woke up, and dylan wasn’t there.”

“how soon before your arrest did you wake up?” soule asked, looking between a form and his notes.

“five minutes, if that.”

“we think dylan may have killed himself at the same time,” soule looked her directly in the eyes, causing poppy to gasp quietly. “we can’t ignore the fact that dylan might’ve intentionally done something to cause you to wake up at that particular time.”

he breathed out slowly, looking down at his notes. “you’ve been helpful, but you’re still detained, i’m afraid. i’ll take you to the cells until a parent or lawyer can organise your release.” soule stood, his face downcast. poppy chewed on her bottom lip, standing with him. she’d never been in trouble before, barely even with school. 

and now, she was sat in a cell, trying to think of what decisions she’d made in her life to lead to this. 

**Author's Note:**

> title: blow me (one last kiss) by pink
> 
> ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ socials ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙  
> reddit: zvezdna  
> discord: VoDKa#1999  
> ko-fi: ko-fi.com/bemorekind  
> tumblr: poppystardew


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